If you’d rather watch this reflection instead of reading, you can find the full video at the bottom of this post — or directly on my YouTube channel: Awakening With Don.
Sometimes people ask me what “living in the present” really looks like.
For me, it often starts with something as simple as three breaths.
When my mind starts racing toward the future—or replaying the past—I’ve learned that the most honest thing I can do is to come back to what’s happening right now.
That’s why I focus on the breath. My breath—and my heartbeat—are the two constants in my life. They’re always with me, steady reminders that I don’t have to look outside myself to reconnect.
That’s not some mystical practice; it’s simply a way of staying human.
There was a time when I lived almost entirely in reaction. When something went wrong—or someone said something hurtful—I’d scramble to fix it or spiral into resentment.
In those years, alcohol was my way of reacting to life. When things didn’t go as I wanted—when people, circumstances, or even my own emotions didn’t match the picture in my head—I reached for something to change the way I felt. I wasn’t responding to life; I was trying to rewrite it.
Even after I entered recovery, that pattern didn’t disappear overnight. I wasn’t reaching for a drink anymore, but I still chased the next “solution” to make things feel better—another distraction, another quick fix.
And while alcohol was my escape, I’ve learned that we all have our versions of it—the habits, distractions, or thought patterns we turn to when life doesn’t go our way. In recovery circles, that’s sometimes called trying to “fix, manage, and control” life. And that’s exactly what I was doing—still reacting, still resisting what was.
These days, I’m learning to pause—to give myself just enough space between what happens and how I respond.
That small pause changes everything. It turns reaction into reflection, and reflection into response.
My practice isn’t about “achieving enlightenment” or escaping the messiness of life. It’s about learning to live within it—steadily, compassionately, one breath at a time.
When I sit in meditation each morning, it’s not because I’ve mastered peace; it’s because I still need practice. Some days my mind is still. Other days, it’s loud and restless. But either way, I show up.
That’s what Buddhist practice has taught me: consistency matters more than perfection. And presence—real, grounded presence—is built moment by moment.
I’ve also learned that life, like exploration, asks us to step into the unknown with courage, trust, and humility.
When I stop needing to have all the answers, I can finally see what’s in front of me—a quiet morning, a conversation that matters, the simple miracle of breath.
It’s in those moments I realize—peace was never something I had to find.
It was something I had to stop resisting.
🎥 Watch the full reflection on YouTube:
Finding Peace in the Pause | Awakening With Don
